The Rills and Rivers
by lannerz
Summary: A series of ficlets detailing the betrothal and growing relationship between young and wary Catelyn Tully and bold and boisterous Brandon Stark and what could have been.


**Author's Notes:** So I have a few Catelyn x Brandon fics, and I think I'm just going to put them in one thing. Every time I write them, the fics could be in the same universe, so I'm just going to do that. It saves space.

**Disclaimer: **GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

**The Rills and Rivers  
**_What the Future Holds_

"I heard that he's very handsome, Catelyn; you're so lucky," Lysa gushed as she helped Catelyn braid her hair.

Catelyn frowned at her reflection and her equally difficult hair. She'd been trying to braid it for what felt like forever, but she'd only managed to get it in knots and become frustrated. Her hands were shaky and her mind distracted, neither of which helped when it came to braiding. Lysa had come in and taken over, deftly weaving Catelyn's Tully red hair into a beautiful braid.

"You'll love him, truly, and be Lady of Winterfell and have lots of children."

"I suppose."

Lysa stopped braiding her hair and sat down in front of her big sister, a confused look on her face. "You suppose?" she repeated in her most incredulous voice. Catelyn merely shrugged her shoulders, a decidedly un-lady-like action that she only did when no one else but her sister or Edmure were around, not even in front of her father. "You're going to marry Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell and the title of Warden of the North. He's handsome and charming and talented with the sword and riding. What else could you want?"

"What if I don't love him? What if _he_ doesn't love _me_?"

"He'll love you! He has to. You're Catelyn Tully of Riverrun and you will be a beautiful lady and bear him handsome sons and lovely daughters. He could not hope for a better match."

Catelyn did not want to tell her little sister of all the worries and insecurities that had plagued her since she had started to approach her flowering. Two years ago, her father had started to look for the perfect match for his oldest daughter and soon it would be Lysa's turn. She had known early on, of course, but he hadn't actually told her of his plans until a year before. When Catelyn had told her younger sister, Lysa had been so much more excited than her. She still thought love was a song and that everyone loved the person they married, just as their father had loved their late mother. Catelyn knew that wasn't true though. This was an arranged marriage; and no matter how much her father loved her, he could not arrange for another man to love his daughter truly. Brandon Stark might never love her, and she might never love him. That had nothing to do with their marriage.

Nonetheless, Catelyn smiled down at her little sister and put a hand on her cheek. "You're right. I'm being silly. Thank you."

"When I'm betrothed, you better not be as moody as you are now," Lysa told her, a little pout on her face. Catelyn just laughed and leaned forward to kiss her sister on the forehead, making Lysa giggle.

A knock on the door interrupted the giggling and a handmaiden poked her head into the door. "Lady Catelyn, your father requests your presence," she announced, before dipping back out and shutting the door.

Lysa squealed and jumped to her feet. "He's here!"

Catelyn's heart had begun to race the moment the handmaiden had knocked on the door, but now it was beating even faster. She tried to hide the distressed look on her face, but Lysa didn't even seem to notice as she bolted out of the room, saying how she had to finish getting ready and make sure Edmure wasn't trying to swim in the moat again. He always got grumpy when he had to dress up and would try to do that. "I don't understand why father didn't even let me meet him first," she muttered to her reflection. "He let me meet all the other possible boys…" She sighed and then left the safety of her room.

Two years of planning his oldest daughter's marriage and he'd settled on Brandon Stark quite suddenly. She had been somewhat nervous that he was going to pick Robert Baratheon, but then his betrothal to Lyanna Stark had been announced. Her father had allowed her to meet all of her other possible suitors, under the guise that he needed to speak with their lord fathers or whatnot. In truth, they had wanted to see how their children would interact. Catelyn was courteous and polite with all of them. She'd gotten along well with all of them, even though there had been a few that she had downright disliked. Her father had noticed it when she didn't like them though and had promised her that he wouldn't marry her to someone she didn't like, but now she was going to marry someone she'd never met and she had no idea if she'd like him or not. Still, just as Lysa, her father, her Septa, and the Maester had told her, this was perhaps the best match for her in all of Westeros.

She should be happy, not terrified.

But what no one seemed to take into account was that Catelyn was only a girl of ten and two while Brandon was a boy of ten and five. He was at an age where he might have already been with other girls whereas Catelyn still felt like just a child. She still played with Lysa, Petyr, and Edmure. Though she did most of the duties that the Lady of Riverrun would do, in place of her late mother, she had just flowered a year ago. Brandon Stark would be nearly a man grown; he would not want a child, even if she would later grow up to be a beautiful woman like Lysa said she was. Catelyn could dress up and braid her hair and act like a lady all she wanted, but she was still a child and she was sure that Brandon would be able to see right through her.

When she reached the hall, her father and many others were there waiting on her. There were a few people she didn't recognize, but she spotted the sigil of the direwolf very easily. These were people from Winterfell here; these were Stark men. Catelyn hesitated for a moment, her heart nearly falling into the pit of her stomach, but when she caught her uncle Ser Brynden wink at her, she took a deep breath and pushed forward, walking to them. He wasn't wearing his black armor. She wanted to rush into his arms and hide behind him. Her uncle had been the only person she'd truly talked to about her fears concerning marriage because he had refused to marry himself. She'd wanted to do that as well, but knew that it wasn't her duty. It was a miracle that he was here now, considering the animosity between him and her father, but he was undoubtedly here for his oldest niece.

"We should've written to you that we were arriving a day earlier than planned," a man was saying to her father. "The snows let up a lot more than expected on our travel up here."

"It's not a problem," her father replied. "I was more concerned that you might be offended about not receiving a proper welcome, but there will be a large feast tonight to celebrate your arrival."

"There is no need to be concerned," the man said, amusement in his voice. He caught sight of Catelyn, who had stopped a few feet away from them, unsure of what to do. A large smile split onto his face. "This must be your daughter Catelyn then. Oh, Hoster, you were modest – she's much prettier than you let on. Brandon will be beside himself. He was sure I was going to force him to settle down with some homely girl, and I was half in mind to do so."

Catelyn smiled nervously and did a little curtsey. "Thank you, my lord."

Rickard Stark had the look of the North him. His skin was somewhat pale and he had dark brown hair with a few grey streaks in it, but he looked like a strong man as well. She'd been told that you had to be strong if you lived in the North. Once she married Brandon, she would be living in the North, and she would need to be strong. (She needed to be strong _now_.) But he looked a lot more pleasant than she thought he would be. She'd thought that all men from the North were cold and steely, but he was beaming down at her instead.

"Where _is_ your son?" her father asked.

"He's riding from Barrowtown where he's being fostered with Lord Dustin," Lord Stark sighed. "He was supposed to meet us at the Neck, but I fear traveling in new lands got the best of him. He's a very…adventurous boy. I'm sure he'll be here within the day."

And so began the preparations for the night's feast. Catelyn let the men do what they needed, preferring to stick to herself. Normally she would have been involved in all the preparations, helping make decisions and whatnot. Those were part of the duties of the Lady of Riverrun, but tonight, she wanted to do nothing of the sort. She didn't feel like doing or saying much of anything. Even as Lysa ran about excitedly and Edmure tried to provoke the youngest Stark boy, Benjen Stark, into a childish scuffle who had accompanied his father, all Catelyn wanted to was hide in her room. She should be happy about this, but she couldn't find it in her.

During the feast, she sat there picking at her food. Whenever Lord Stark asked her a question, she would perk up and respond as politely and brightly as she could. She even attempted at being funny, which seemed a good idea since Lord Stark would laugh. Apparently, most girls didn't think it wise to act anything beyond the perfect structure of what was expected of them. He'd even said that Brandon would like that. She smiled at that, but then, when left to herself, she fell into a morose state again.

"Why the sad face, my little Cat?"

Catelyn stopped building a moat of gravy in her mashed potatoes and looked up to see her Uncle Brynden standing to her side, a warm smile on his face. She smiled back at him and set her spoon down. "I'm not sad," she insisted.

Ser Brynden sat down on the bench next to her, ignoring the wary glance her father had thrown their way. "Lying isn't proper for a lady," he pointed out not unkindly, the smile still on his face. She tried to keep the smile on her face, but it began to falter and she let it fade away. He'd always been able to tell when she was sad and whenever she was lying. It wouldn't be hard to see it now, but no one else seemed to be paying attention to her. Everyone had just assumed that she was excited. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared," she admitted quietly, glancing around in hopes that no one else had heard her.

"There's nothing to be scared about, dear," her uncle told her. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I thought you were excited about being betrothed and married."

"I was," Catelyn said, "I mean, I _am_, but…" She picked up her fork and began to move around the food on her plate again. "Lord Stark says that his son will like me. Father insists this is the best match I could hope for. The Septa and Maester told me that I will be one of those powerful ladies in all of Westeros. Lysa tells me he's handsome and I'll love him, but I've never even _met_ him. How can I think he'll ever love me when I've never met him?"

Her uncle sighed. "I told Hoster you should've met first," he mumbled under his breath. When she looked up at her with her sad blue eyes, he took her hands in his and smiled at her again. "I can't tell you anything that will make you any less worried. Just know that I am here for you; your entire family is here for you. What are our words?"

"Family, Duty, Honor," she recited.

"That's right, and family always comes first." Ser Brynden kissed her on the top of her head. "Now chin up, my little Cat. I've never known you to show your sadness so outright. You're so much braver than that."

Catelyn nodded her head and smiled when her uncle hugged her. She hugged him in return just as fiercely. Some men might balk at hugging, but her uncle had never done so. When she was scared or upset or hurt herself, he would always hug her. It always made her feel better. She had seen how many children were distant with their lord parents, but she and her father had always been close. She trusted him, so she had to trust him in this as well, even if it scared her.

The Maester walked up to the table and bowed. "My lords, I believe Brandon Stark has arrived."

"It's about time," Lord Stark said, setting his glass of wine down. "I've sent ravens to anywhere he might've been, but all of them replied with having not seen him. He probably went off on his own. He thinks he's a man grown, but he's still a boy at heart."

Catelyn froze in her seat, trying her best not to panic, but when she felt her uncle squeeze her hand before standing up, she felt her body ease up. She looked up at her uncle, who winked at her again and walked off. He was right. She would be brave. It wasn't the same type of bravery that knights had or maybe even a bravery that men would recognize, but it her bravery, and she would wear it like an armor.

"You're about to meet your future lord husband!" Lysa whispered excitedly beside her.

"Yes," Catelyn said, watching as the doors opened, "yes I am."


End file.
